


Another Road (I'm Sure We're Lost)

by Not_So_Secretly_a_Spaceship



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 001 is the voice of reason, 003 is not, 005 Loves Cooking, 005 Loves Cupcakes, 005 is Finn Fletcher (OMC), 008 Loves Lego, Alec is secretly a sook, Alec makes a BAMF uncle, All the 00 agents are woefully unprepaired, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Bond is a BAMF uncle, Bond is woefully unprepaired, Dog Called Steve, Eve Moneypenny Ships James Bond/Q, Everyone ships James Bond/Q, M/M, OC - Bond Niece, Severe social anxiety, Slow Burn, teenage angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-17
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-07-15 15:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 38
Words: 16,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7227235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_So_Secretly_a_Spaceship/pseuds/Not_So_Secretly_a_Spaceship
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bond is totally unprepared to care for a teenage girl, let alone a socially awkward one. Fortunately the rest of MI6 have his back. More or less. (Q cardigans, old man slippers, and a hoard of mischievous 00s.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So brief authors' note - this is all cross posted on FF.net, and will be in small snippets as and when I post.
> 
> It'll get funnier. Just got to set up a bit first. I have some grand plans for this.

James receives the call in the morning. Early. It is barely seven a.m. He is awake regardless. 

"Bond," he says by way of greeting. 

"Hello," the voice on the other end begins. "This is Wayne Brunn from McVeigh Flemming Solicitors in New Zealand, am I speaking with Mister James Bond?" 

"Speaking." That explains the hour.

"Excellent. Apologies for the early hour of the call. I am the executor of the Estate of Katherine Bond and I am calling you in relation to a number of clauses in her will," Mr Brunn explains. 

James is silent. Mr Brunn continues. "I understand you two were not very close." James snorts. 

"We haven't spoken," he says. 

"Despite this, she has left you a number of things that will require some organising," Mr Brunn says. 

"Can you send me an email detailing this and I will attend to it at my earliest convenience," James replies. 

"That's not a problem, if you would provide me with your email address and we will provide you with the details," Mr Brunn says. 

James gives him the email and hangs up. He wonders if he can convince one of the administrative assistants to deal with the organising.


	2. Chapter 2

James doesn't end up reading the email. He sends it instead to the administrative department with the instruction 'please organise'. He knows they will confirm legitimacy prior to any arrangements.

He receives an email back from Janine Wigglesworth in the administrative department. "Please ensure you are home at 0900 on 24 February." He contemplates his options for a moment, but decides he is simply curious and, with a valid excuse not to turn up on time to complete the mountains of paperwork he has successfully procrastinated on for the last six days, he will be at home at the stipulated time. 

There is a knock at the door. He opens it to a tall and heavy-set man, broad across the shoulders and jaw in equal measure, in an off-the-shelf jacket and suit that fits well enough not to be appalling but fails in any way to be even remotely bespoke. A small girl lurks on the footpath huddled into her jacket, hands fisted tightly into the fur of what could only be a small bear in dog form. 

"Hello," the man says, extending his right hand in greeting. "I am Wayne Brunn." 

"Bond," James says with a thin smile as he takes the man's hand and receives a strong shake. He applies a bit of additional pressure, a caution, a threat, before releasing it. 

"I've been corresponding with your assistant Janine. I appreciate you being here to meet with us, and I apologise for the short notice. We thought it would be best to make this quick," Mr Brunn says. James' eyebrow twitches at the 'we'. "Mr Bond, may I introduce you to Alice Bond, your niece, and her assistance dog Steve." Wayne angles his body to one side, gesturing to the girl on the street. 

She twitches her head his way but resolutely avoids looking at him. Her shoulders hunch. "Hello," she squeaks out. 

"Hello," James replies. He glances between the two. "Why don't you come in out of the cold."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still in the boring set up bit. I'm just hankering for some of the funny shit I'm throwing their way. 
> 
> Only one more exam to go YAY!

James is, to put it mildly, flabbergasted. His sister, who he has never _actually_ spoken to, as she had been away at boarding school during his youth and did not return home on the death of their parents but rather met a man, married him, and moved to a country almost on the opposite side of the world, had written him into her will.

He can only assume it was insanity that made her do it. He knew of her existence. She knew of his. That was about the extent of their knowledge of one another and the entirety of their relationship. And yet, clause 4(b) clearly states 'custodianship will fall secondly to my brother, James Bond, and any partner of his thereof' (the first condition being unable to be met, as her 'dear friend Antoinette' had perished in the same car crash).

The young Miss Bond does not uncurl from the corner of the lounge suite she has crammed herself into. Her face is white and blotchy red. Her eyes, now that he can see them, are the same blizzard he is graced with. She never once releases the dog, who obediently sits in front of her and watches them.

"There is considerable financial accommodation for Alice's care to go to you, as well as a trust fund for incidentals for Alice herself. I am the executor of the trust fund until Alice's twenty first birthday," Mr Brunn explains. "All education requirements have been accounted for. She has been enrolled in the nearby David Game College. They are aware of her circumstances." The explanation continues.

"What do you want in all of this?" James interrupts, directing his voice towards the form hunched into the couch. She twitches. Shoulders rise to meet her ears. The dog leans its weight against her legs and watches her. There is silence.

"I want my computer," she says. Barely a whisper.

Mr Brunn turns to address her. "I'll bring it with your things." He turns back to James.

He only listens to half an ear as the solicitor continues.

* * *

"I'm sorry," is the first thing she blurts out when Mr Brunn departs with the promise to return shortly with her meagre belongings. James is almost startled.

"It's hardly your fault," James replies. And it's true. Her mother was the insane one. "Please allow me to show you to your room."

She follows, shuffling behind him with her hand still embedded within the giant beast's coat. He opens the door to the spare room – the neatly made queen bed, side tables, and an old mahogany wardrobe barely seem to make a dent in the vastness of the room. A rug of arapawa merino fleece sits to one side of the bed.

"Find a desk you like and have it delivered, and a rug to match," he says. He stops, brain finally ticking over now that she is in the room and her eyes are flicking over every surface and the very bare walls. She's a teenager. A teenage _girl_. He's overheard enough office talk to know teenage girls _obsess_ and hang things like _boy band posters_ or whatever cute famous person they're currently _crushing_ on. "If you, ah," he begins. She doesn't turn to face him, but he knows he has her attention. "If you would like to hang some posters please use poster tack."

"Thank you," she replies, and he backpedals from the room.

Never let it be known that James Bond _flees_ from a teenage female.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm in denial that I have an exam tomorrow that I only very loosely know the content for.

Mr Brunn returns a good hour later with all Miss Bond's belongings in two large suitcases and a backpack. James hauls the suitcases up the front door steps. They're not very big.

"I will be staying in London for another three days," Mr Brunn tells Miss Bond at the front door. Her dog leans against her legs.

"I'll be okay. Thank you, Wayne," she says.

"There are a number of park areas around here that you can take Steve to,” Mr Brunn continues. “Perhaps Mr Bond would be so kind as to accompany you to one?”

She freezes like a deer caught in the headlights and she doesn't move her head but James knows every ounce of her attention is on him. He's an unknown. And unknowns are terrifying. 

“It will be a pleasant walk,” James supplies by way of answer. She doesn't relax.

“I'll keep in touch. And remember, if you need anything at all, I'm just an email away,” Mr Brunn finishes. He doesn't embrace the girl. He gives her a very warm, fond smile, nods to James - “Mr Bond,” - and leaves.

* * *

James is absolutely unashamed to admit that he is out of his depth. He has a moment of panic where he considers calling Moneypenny for help. This is quickly trumped by the ribbing he knows he'll get.

Miss Bond silently gears up for the chill of London in February. The dog, Steve, wears a large harness with a hi-vis 'vest' proclaiming it to be an assistance dog.

The walk is silent. Miss Bond walks with her head tucked into her coat. They reach Kensington Gardens and she takes a moment to remove the dog's harness, leaving it in just its collar.

It's like a switch has been flipped and the dog's mouth opens, tongue rolls out and its tail wags. It throws its head up and spins around and cavorts about.

They continue walking. It rushes here and there and everywhere, always returning to touch its nose to Miss Bond's hand before gambolling off in another direction.

“So what do you do for fun?” James asks. She flinches.

“Games,” she replies.

“What kind of games?”

“Computer games.”

“Ah. Do you play the shooter ones?” he asks.

“No.”

“What's the game du jour?” She looks at the ground blankly. “The current game you're playing.”

“Diablo.”

“What's that about?” Christ, this is like pulling hen's teeth.

“Saving the world.”

“Ah, all well and good then,” James replies. The rest of the walk is undertaken in silence.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Free of thinky exams. Just clinical exam of a dog to go now.

Miss Bond shuffles off into the spare room – her room, now – as soon as they return from the Gardens. The dog follows, and the door shuts behind her as she drags her suitcases into her new den.

James seems to recall hearing about 'teenager dens'. Cesspits of mess and stench and partially eaten food and socks _everywhere_. James shudders and makes a mental note to discuss cleanliness and basic ground rules. Another mental note to give her a key. And one of his spare credit cards for emergencies.

He calls Moneypenny. “Send my paperwork to my home address, would you,” he says.

“Hello to you, too,” Eve replies dryly. “This is a new low of laziness, even for you, Bond.”

“You know how it is,” James purrs.

“No, I really don't.” Eve sighs. “I'll have one of the drivers drop it off after lunch. Do you need anything else, while I'm at it? Lunch? A stripper?” James barks a laugh.

“You could always deliver the documents yourself,” he croons. He can actually _hear_ the eyeroll.

“Good bye, _Bond_ ,” Eve says and hangs up the phone. The corner of James' mouth twitches.

“I'm just nipping out for a moment. What would you like in your sandwich?” James calls through the wood panelling.

What sounds like “chicken, brie and cranberry please,” comes back. At least she has _some_ manners, James thinks as he strides out the door. His apartment is barely a stone's throw away from a bustling and trendy boutique commercial area. Fiendishly expensive hipster cafes dot their way up and down the street around bespoke tailors, boutique shoe shops (predominantly for females), 'off the shelf' fashion as well as a haute couture shop for the truly discerning lady.

This is Notting Hill, after all.

He ducks into the first cafe that he knows doesn't do 'deconstructed' meals. Quite possibly one of the most moronic trends to ever sweep the food industry. He's served at the counter by a bearded and tattooed young man in suspenders and a well-fitting waistcoat. He pays, and a few minutes later is handed a piccolo in a tiny takeaway cup and two paper bags.

Much to James' delight, the driver is pulling up to the curb outside his house just as he reaches his front step. He shuffles his acquisitions about to unlock the door and steps aside for the driver to haul two archive boxes _full_ of papers.

James is quite positive there wasn't that many papers on his desk to attend to. It is likely Moneypenny is getting her revenge by lumping him with unnecessary forms to fill out (insurance forms, claims, expense reports and claim forms, forms for every item of equipment he has misplaced, lost, blown up or shot in the last year, that sort of thing). The driver deposits the boxes just inside the door and darts off with a brief bow.

James kicks the door shut behind him. “Lunch!”

He places the bags on the kitchen island and drains the piccolo. Grimaces. The cafe used milk rather than his requested cream.

It is a few minutes before the door creeks open and Miss Bond pads out.

Out of her voluminous coat and scarf, she's a slip of a girl, all gangle and little coordination. Tiny, though, barely scraping in at roughly 160 centimetres and if she is even a pound over seven stone James will be deeply surprised. She wears a nearly fitting black T-shirt with some kind of bright yellow creature on the front and words proudly proclaiming 'POKEMON', whatever that is. Her jeans are oversized and scraggy. Too long for her legs. Her socks are multi-coloured stripes where the poke out beneath the hem.

James keeps his despair internal and wonders just how difficult it would be to get her into an actual clothing shop to buy some _actual_ clothes. Another mental note. Broach subject of clothing at earliest opportunity.

The dog pads out after her.

“Is it house trained?” he asks.

“Of course,” she replies. “He's a fully trained and qualified assistance dog.” She sounds insulted on the dog's behalf. Shit.

“Very good,” he says, almost apologetically.

“May I eat in my room?” she asks. She keeps her face averted. James grimaces. Internally. The Teenage Den will begin now if he's not careful.

“If you bring the plate out straight after, I don't see why not. Keep your room tidy.” She nods at the floor and grabs the plate she is offered. She shuffles back into her room. The dog follows.

James lets out the breath he's been holding when the door shuts behind her. He decides then and there that he's just too old for this shit.

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will come very slowly now, I'm on our 2 week 'mid semester break' which actually involves me getting two weeks of equine prac in, and spending more time tidying up my anatomy notes in preparation for the start of semester 2.
> 
> The Grauniad, for those as what don't know, is another name for the Guardian newspaper. It is well known for some truly spectacular typos.
> 
> I also don't know where the private Kensington Gardens are (or at least the ones that people with keys can get access to), so I just made it for the whole gardens. For after hours access. Because none of the other private gardens in the area really suit.

Miss Bond emerges for dinner – gourmet pizza from the local Italian pizzeria. The dog obediently sits next to her, her permanent and massive shadow.

The damn dog almost undoubtedly weighs more than she does. Didn't her mother feed her? Christ.

Despite his misgivings, Miss Bond manages to pack away the _entire_ pizza. Hawaiian. As per her request through the door. And an entire garlic bread.

Apparently teenagers are also bottomless pits. Or have hollow legs. It should not be possible for that amount of food to disappear into something so _tiny_ , but it does. At an unnatural speed.

They eat in awkward silence at his kitchen island, perched on trendy bar stools at opposite ends.

“Thank you for dinner,” she murmurs. Slips off the stool, puts her plate in the dishwasher (good), and darts back to her room. The dog's tail wags as it follows. James quirks an eyebrow.

He folds up the box and puts the pizza in the fridge. It's late enough that James doesn't feel at all guilty about ignoring the 'Identification of Hazards in the Workplace' form Moneypenny has added to his pile of papers. Which, yes, he's technically supposed to fill out for _every_ mission but never actually does.

He doesn't know a single 00 who does.

So instead he settles onto his couch with The Grauniad and a finger of double malt. Puts his feet up on the ottoman and relaxes.

Some time later, his watch helpfully providing the time as nearly 20:00, Miss Bond once more emerges from her room.

“I need to take Steve to the toilet,” she says from her door. James digs in his pants pocket and pulls out his house key. Looks at her and ponders for a moment before standing and walking over to her.

“Key to get back in and for the gardens,” he says. Fishes out another device from his pocket. “Lift the cover and push this button if anyone tries to kidnap you.” He hands that to her as well and she blinks at it. “Only use it if you _really_ need it. It sends an SOS, so will produce a rather dramatic response. There may be helicopters involved.”

Her eyes go wide and dart to his face for a brief second. “That is _so cool_ ,” she says, hands cupping the little device reverently.

“ _Only in absolute emergencies_ , not just because someone looked at you funny,” James says sternly. Her eyes are still wide and excited.

“Absolutely, Uncle James,” she replies, still awed. “Thank you.”

“And my number in case of regular emergencies,” James says. She whips out her cellphone and puts it in (under Uncle James, he notes). “If you go to the same gate we went to, the key works there.”

“Thank you,” she says, stuffing everything back into her pockets and wrapping herself up. The dog is once again wearing his harness and hi-vis vest. She lets herself out.

James returns to his newspaper perusing and whisky.

 


	7. Chapter 7

The next few days are peaceful. Miss Bond - Alice - clearly struggles with aligning herself to a timezone twelve hours out, typically waking about 04:00 and struggling to remain awake much past 17:00. James, in the guise of 'working from home', learns her patterns.

She's very quiet when she gets up for breakfast, usually around 06:00. She leaves to take her dog for the morning walk shortly thereafter. She returns at roughly 06:50, give or take a few minutes. She disappears into her room to play her games until James returns from the cafe with lunch. She eats quickly with her dog sitting next to her, puts her things in the dishwasher, and then shuffles back into her room. At around 15:00 she gears up for the cold and they go for another dog walk. She returns shortly after 16:00, when the gardens officially close.

In deference to her sleep pattern, James ensures dinner is delivered and ready to eat around 16:30. Copious amounts of food appear on his kitchen island and disappear just as quickly into the black hole that is currently masquerading as a teenage female.

Tonight, he even tries talking to her.

“Are you still playing that devil game?” he asks.

“Diablo,” she corrects without looking up. “No.”

“Tell me about the game you're playing now,” he perseveres. He's had extensive interrogation training. He's acquired intel from the toughest minds, the hardest of women, the most dangerous of assassins.

“It's a game,” she says.

Fuck. “What's it called?”

“Dragon Age Inquisition.”

“What's it about?”

“Saving the world. Again.” The corner of her lip twitches upwards, as though 'again' was an in joke.

“Does it have dragons?”

“Yes.”

“What do they do?”

“You can kill them for a sidequest.”

Note to self: discuss gaming with Q. “Are they integral to the plot at all?”

“No, not really.”

“Why's it called Dragon Age, then?”

“Dunno. Just is.”

They fall silent and finish their meal. Alice takes her plate and puts it in the dishwasher.

“Thank you for dinner, Uncle James,” she says as she disappears back into her room. James rubs a hand over his face when the door is shut. Interrogation techniques be damned when he can use none of them but polite conversation. And apparently teenagers are masters of vague and uninformative conversational manoeuvres.

 


	8. Chapter 8

The Monday dawns grey and dreary while Alice is walking the dog. James is already awake – contrary to popular belief, he is actually an early riser. Just incredibly lazy when he doesn't have to be doing things. Or when he has things like _paperwork_ to keep him occupied. He has heard nothing from MI6 about his impromptu 'work from home slash holiday' and suspects they're really just glad he's not there to bother them.

He doesn't take well to not being on missions. It's something he plays up to. It's not as if he has to ham it up much, but the more annoying he is, as a general rule, the faster he is sent out on missions. So he is deliberately as annoying as humanly possible to the people who are in positions of power – like the Q branch, Q himself, and Moneypenny, when he's not able to get to M directly – to be loosed upon the world by way of 'any old bloody mission, just get out now, Bond'.

He's actually quite proud of his reputation. There was the time he merely walked into Q branch, was told to 'get out, get out, damn your eyeballs' and promptly shuttled off to a milk run in Dubai.

Alice returns and shuffles around in her room for a small period of time before returning to the living area, where Bond sprawls on one of the frightfully comfortable sofas.

“I'm going to school,” Alice says. Bond blinks.

“Do you need a lift?” he asks.

“No, thank you,” she replies.

“Are you walking?”

“Yes, it's not far.”

“Why not take the tube?”

“Too many people.” She huffs and pushes her fingers into the dog's ruff.

“Have you got lunch?” She nods and pats her bag.

“Leftover pizza.”

“Will it be enough?”

“Should be.”

“Well … have a good first day of school, then,” James says. Alice nods and slinks her way out the front door, gloved hands clutching her dog like a lifeline.

James waits until nine am and, content that she hasn't called or texted him in blind panic, departs for MI6. For once, not to deliberately irritate the daylights out of the poor souls in Q branch, but rather to raid their surveillance and security equipment.

He's hardly going to have a defenceless fifteen year old girl live with him without implementing _some_ kind of extra security.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short one today, but the next one's already written, and the two after that planned out in my noggin. They're a bit longer.

James is sitting innocently – maybe too innocently – on the couch when Alice stumbles out of the cold and into the warmth of the apartment.

“How was school?” he asks.

“Okay,” comes the response as she unwraps herself.

“What did you do today?”

“Stuff.”

“And what kind of stuff was that?”

“Maths and stuff.”

“Ah. What are your classmates like?”

“Okay.”

Bond can feel his eyebrow twitching. Blood from a damn stone. “Anyone interesting?”

“I guess.” She stands at the door to her den, the dog vigorously thwapping its tail into her leg.

James nearly sighs. Nearly. “Dinner will be ready about six.” Alice takes that as the dismissal it is and disappears.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really enjoyed writing this chapter. 
> 
> Also I didn't realise but Nottingham is just about 3 hours north of Heathrow, and traffic at the time normal people arrive at work would have made it impossible to get to Heathrow in time to check in and board the 10.30am flight.
> 
> So it's just really really ridiculously early in the morning.

It is Wednesday morning and James Bond is finally called into MI6. He dumps a box full of paperwork (some completed, some not) on Moneypenny's desk on his way in to see M.

“Intel gathering in Kuwait,” M says without preamble, dropping a file onto his desk for James to peruse. “Matthew Jones, well enough known arms dealer. Bug his hotel room, bug his office. Get what you can. Pull the plug in a week, but do try to make it look like an accident.”

James spends a moment reviewing the file in front of him. It contains bare essential information on his mark – name, age, photo, current movements in Kuwait, and hotel information.

“Get down to Q branch and over to Heathrow, there's a flight leaving at ten thirty,” M finishes with a dismissing flap of a hand. James pauses half way to depositing the file on the desk. Mallory notices. “Is there a problem?” he asks slowly, carefully.

“I have an afternoon appointment that cannot be … rescheduled,” James replies equally carefully. “I'd like to request the red-eye flight.”

Mallory sits back in his chair and steeples his fingers, narrowing his eyes at James. James is fully aware that a request of this nature is _so far beyond_ his normal behaviour it will set alarm bells ringing.

“Bond, if this is a _dalliance_ you are postponing a mission for, I shall be somewhat fucked off,” Mallory replies eventually. James huffs a laugh and smirks.

“Noted, sir,” he replies.

“Get there for the red-eye and get out. Don't forget to stop by Q branch on your way to your 'appointment'.” James' smirk grows.

“Yes, sir,” he says and spins on his heel to exit the office before he's questioned further. He winks at Moneypenny on his way out, who glares balefully at him as he passes, the box he'd deposited on her desk sitting on the floor to one side of her desk.

He makes his meandering way down to Q branch – still in the basement, as apparently boffins feel more at home in rock tombs than in airy offices. Or perhaps it was just Q.

As ever, he strolls in as though he owns the place and the boffin-ettes scatter in terror. He will never admit to thoroughly enjoying the tizz Q branch fits into at his presence. Nor will he ever admit to the pleasure he experiences when their young Quartermaster notices him and his face drops from serious to warm exasperation.

“Denise has your things,” Q says. James doesn't slow his rolling walk towards Q's desk until he reaches it. He leans on it. Waits. Q ignores him valiantly for all of twenty seconds. “What do you want, double-oh-seven,” he says flatly.

“My equipment,” James purrs out.

“Go bother Denise,” Q retorts.

It's almost routine at this point. James comes in, gets fobbed off to a boffin-ette, and bothers Q until he gives in and does the handover himself. So James just digs his heels in and waits. It isn't long before Q stops tap-tapping on the keyboard and turns to face him.

Denise, knowing exactly what the game is, brings the briefcase over and hands it to Q, who sighs. Flips it open and spins it around for James to extract the various equipment.

“Walther PPK with biometric scanner – don't let anyone you like handle that gun, they'll get enough of a shock to cause muscle spasms and potentially loss of consciousness. It'll play havoc on any pacemaker so perhaps don't hand it to the elderly. Burner phone, set up for Kuwait. S.O.S., identical to the one you lost in Timbuktu. I'm assuming you merely lost the device and not the knowledge of how to _use_ it. Earwig. Do use it this time, Bond.” Q levels him A Look that says 'or else'. James flicks him a brief smirk. “And would you kindly give your obsession with exploding and or destroying things a rest and bring this all back in one piece.”

At this, James' grin broadens. “I'll do my best,” he replies evenly. Tucks the Walther into its holster, the phone, S.O.S. and earwig into his inner jacket pocket.

“Best to return it in one piece, or best to destroy it?” Q asks. James makes a non-committal hum as he meanders out of Q-department, leaving Q huffing in irritation at his back.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't realised it but a year ago today (4 July) I received my offer of place for Veterinary Science. So in celebration of this fact, here's ANOTHER chapter!
> 
> This is literally hot off my brain so please excuse any tense fandangling.

James is on the couch when Alice shuffles in from school. The dog actually wanders over to him and gives his knee a contemplative sniff before returning to Alice's side.

“I've been called away for business,” James says, watching closely as she freezes part way to her bedroom door. She turns to face him. She's still no able to look directly at him, and that's okay. Baby steps. Instead, her eyes take in the detail of the portion of couch he does not occupy.

“Okay,” she says eventually.

“I expect it will take just over a week,” he explains, standing and walking around the side of the couch. “You'll be able to contact me using this phone.” He hands her an old Nokia. “My number while I'm away is in there. Don't use your phone, this is set up through work.” A white lie. It's one of the burners he acquired many years ago and never used. “I've also put in a few more numbers in case you need it. Jay is the contact for anything menial – if you need a lift anywhere, or just advice on where to eat. Contact her and she will help. Three may or may not be around, he's for -”

“His name is Three?” she asks. James shuts his mouth with a snap.

“No, but he goes by that anyway.” She snorts what could be a laugh or could be just a nervous tic, he's not entirely sure. “He's for heavy lifting or if you feel more comfortable having someone else here with you. He's an old colleague of mine. Eve is your _last_ resort. If you're thinking about whether or not to push the S.O.S. call her and then decide.” James frowns. He hopes it doesn't come to that. He can trust the discretion of the double-ohs, and they won't give him too much of a ribbing. Eve, on the other hand, knows exactly how much shit she can get away with and she will go to _town_.

Alice takes the phone from his hands and scrolls through the contacts to make sure they're all there.

“Okay,” she says.

“Now, there are new keys to the windows and another lock to the door for you to use while I'm away.” He hands her the keys.

What he doesn't tell her is the windowframes and eaves now have nanomesh embedded into the paintwork. He'd 'appropriated' the material from R&D and plastered it all over the front door, handle, and frame as well.

Then hooked everything up to the locks and the mains. Slipped a couple of sensors around the corners of the window panes. If the glass shattered, or someone tampers with the locks, or simply tries to force their way in around the locks, they will get a … shock is a polite way of putting it.

“If the glass breaks, don't touch the windows and give Jay a call to get it fixed. They've got inbuilt burglar deterrents, and it's triggered by a broken pane.”

“Okay,” she says quietly, glancing over at the windows with wide eyes.

“This is my credit card. You can have groceries delivered if you would like, or the takeaway menus are in the cupboard above the fridge.” She takes the Platinum Amex and holds it beneath the old Nokia. She nods.

“Thank you,” she says, eyes trained on the floor off to one side of him.

“It should only be for about eight, maybe nine days. I'll let you know when I'm on my way back. If you don't hear from me, don't panic. Jay is there if you need anything.”

“Okay,” she says. Her hand twitches at her side and he thinks she might say something else, but she subsides. Continues staring at the floor beside him as though it might hold the secrets to the universe. It may well do, for her. “Have a safe trip, Uncle James,” she eventually finishes. He smiles, and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“I shall,” he replies.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is also pretty hot off the press.
> 
> Flashback-type-things in italics.
> 
> I've been planning this chapter for a while now...

It is nine days later that James Bond walks through his front door to see Alice on the couch, console controller thing in hand, with the dog sprawled across the other end of the couch. She has the forethought to have thrown a blanket over the couch to protect it from claws and hair and mud. James makes a note to thank her for that later, but now he is running on fumes and is thinking of nothing but a dram of single malt Scotch.

The picture on the TV is frozen, and Alice's eyes are wide as she stares at him. He must look like shit. “How was the trip?” she asks in a small voice. He peels off his outer jacket and hangs it up.

“It was warm,” he replies.

_Sweat trickling down the back of his neck. Into his eyes. Even the summer suit is oppressive in this unseasonal heat._

“Did you go anywhere nice?”

“A few places.”

_Running low through the dusty streets of Old Basra, the tac tac tac of AK-47s from darkened, paneless windows. He sticks out like a sore thumb in this city of dusky skin and darker hair._

“Did you do any shopping?” she asks. She thins her lips and her eyes go a bit misty. It takes James a moment to realise her _mother_ would likely have gone shopping.

“I went to some truly spectacular markets,” he admits.

_Darting around ancient carts and exotically dressed merchants yelling their wares to the masses. Pushing his way between, around, men, women, children, none of which care for him one jot, **dirty foreigner** in their world where foreigners dare not tread without an armed guard but there is something, perhaps something long forgotten in the bowels of the psyche, that has people moving out of his way just enough for him to squeeze through. He was, is, always will be, a predator the likes of which the market goers wish never to meet. _

“Did your business meetings go well?” she asks. There's a thwump thwump of the dog's tail as it hits the arm of the couch. James eases himself into the arm chair with a quiet groan.

“Quite well,” he replies with a tiny smirk.

_In the end it is Matthew Jones himself that tries to finish him off. James is busy disposing his guards – six of them. His gun has been lost in the scuffle. His fists are effective enough. He drops the last hired goon with a shoulder charge under his arms as he aims to shoot. The guard does fire, but the gun flicks up and he ends up hitting the arm of one of his unconscious colleagues._

_James stands up slowly, intently focussed on Matthew Jones. The man stands in front of him. He raises the Walther. James stares him down. Drops his weight. Feet braced._

_Matthew Jones depresses the trigger and drops like a sack of potatoes. James is already moving. He flips the safety on the gun and tucks it away into his holster before bending down to check Mr Jones. The man is alarmingly still, eyes wide and vacant. He depresses the jugular. No pulse. That doesn't mean much. James grabs the man's hand and feels for the radial artery. The skin is slack. He fails to find the pulse._

_Grimacing at what he's about to do, James shoves his hand down the front of Mr Jones' pants to locate the femoral artery. Finds the illiac spine and follows the line of the inguinal ligament to where the pulse should be._

_There is no pulse. His mark is well and truly dead. He takes a moment to be really impressed at Q's handiwork with the Walther. For completeness' sake he unbuttons the shirt and pushes it to one side, exposing the left clavicle and pectoral. A thin, white scar, typical of pacemaker surgery._

_While the rest of the scene won't fit the technical definition of 'accident', a pacemaker failure definitely does. James grins as he does up the buttons and makes himself scarce._

“Very well, in fact,” he finishes. Alice smiles _almost_ at him – more at the wall near his left shoulder – and turns back to her game. Turns the volume down. James groans to his feet to pour himself a dram of Glengoyne 25 year atop iced whiskey rocks. He slinks back into the armchair with his tumbler in one hand.

He is lulled into sweet relaxation by the cartoon animations and bright music and simplistically childish fighting on the TV.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly back at uni. Booooooooooo. Although my elbows will be very happy not to have to hold colts again.

It's surprisingly peaceful, James realises, having Alice and Steve in his space. The apartment feels more lived in, in a quiet way. Games and consoles are slowly creeping their way into his TV stand (which, he notes, is regularly vacuumed to keep Steve's voluminous locks off the furnishings). A thick wool blanket spends more and more time spread across one end of his couch. His cupboards begin to fill with things like _jam_ and _marmalade_ and _bread_ and _peanut butter_. And bananas. And sweet potato, butternut squash pumpkin, some rice.

It's a very eclectic selection of feed stuffs. James is deeply surprised when he realises the fruit and vegetables aren't for Alice, they're for _Steve_. He's never seen a dog eat a banana. He's not quite sure he wants to again.

James makes a point to be awake, dressed, and on the couch with a cup of tea (loose leaf Assam with a spot of honey and a dash of cream) by the time Alice returns from her morning walk. They sit in comfortable silence while Alice eats her breakfast – four pieces of gluten free toast, one pair with butter and cheese, the other with butter and lashings of marmalade.

The first morning Alice says “have a good day, Uncle James”, a warm feeling pools in his stomach and a smile takes over his face without his permission. She leaves for school, pulling large noise-cancelling headphones over her ears some mornings, leaving them off others.

He does, in fact, read the Wikipedia pages for 'Dragon Age' and 'Diablo', but by the time he has familiarised himself enough with the games to have a conversation, she's moved on to 'Assassin's Creed'.

“What's that about?” he asks.

“This one's assassins in London,” she replies. He nearly chokes on his scotch.

“Ah. And are you stopping the assassins?” he queries.

“Oh no, you're the assassins and you're fighting against the Templars. It's basically parkour around Victorian London. I don't like it as much as the earlier games. Parkour around Rome was so much more fun.”

This remains, to date, the most words she has ever spoken to him at one time. In fact, it's the most information she has divulged about anything. Despite his numerous attempts.

It also involves a truly dizzying demonstration, as it's apparently a game on her Playstation, which is hooked up to the TV. After that, their evenings are spent mostly in the lounge. She plays her games on the TV until a bit before bed, while he drinks his scotch and reads something. Sometimes it's a book. Sometimes it's just the newspaper. Most evenings it sits lax in his hands as he watches Alice throw her character around old London at high speeds. Up walls, over rooftops, down alleyways barely wide enough to fit a man.

It really is quite pleasant.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short but this is exactly what I wanted.

He's in Bangkok for a week. Every day at 13:00 he sends a text.

_OK?_

Every day he receives a text back.

 _OK_.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates will probably slow down from here. Uni begins tomorrow!

Each time he returns from a mission, Alice seems more … relaxed. At home. She talks to him a bit more. Never without prompting, but she is no longer a worshipper of one-syllable answers.

Even Steve seems to like him more.

It's peculiar. It's not like he's ever _fed_ the great beast. But some mornings, while Alice eats her breakfast at the kitchen bar, Steve lies across James' toes.

This only becomes a problem as winter progresses into spring and the great winter coat the dog has been sporting begins to fall out. Onto James' pants.

“You have hair on your suit pants,” Moneypenny comments one morning. “That's a peculiar place for even you, Bond.”

“It's dog,” he explains with a frown. Moneypenny's eyebrow rises.

“A dog,” she repeats.

James doesn't bother explaining and continues down to Q-branch to pick up his kit for the latest mission. Deploy to follow up a potential lead in the hunt for Messrs Kit Noddy and Greg Eriksson, two men slowly creeping their way to the top of the MI6 wanted list.

Q has the case already on his desk. There will be no fun today. James is somewhat disappointed.

“Tickets to Luxembourg, you'll need to leave direct for Heathrow to catch the plane. Walther, _please_ bring this one back in one piece, this has a new prototype biometric scanner. I am loath to give you this but you're destroying them faster than we can _build_ them.” Q levels a Very Unimpressed Look at him and James almost feels sorry for his destructive habits.

Almost.

“Earwig. You will put this in as soon as you land and keep it in. You are assigned to me for this assignment and you _will_ remain in constant contact.” Another Look, this one with narrowed eyes behind thick lenses.

“Absolutely no going off the grid,” James agrees benignly. “Wouldn't dream of it.”

It's a lie and they both know it. At least with Q in his ear he will have some conversational aspect to his mission, and so maybe … sometimes … might be less inclined to go radio silent. The boffin-ettes charged with managing his standard runs are bores. They do not make small talk, and when the shit hits the proverbial fan, he gets passed on to R or Q. Which happens quite a lot. Some times it is even deliberate.

Q still does not _frown_ per se, but there is a distinct look of irritation about him as Bond packs away his kit.

“I need you to _do as I say_ , Bond. This is our first hit on either of them in months, and we cannot afford to blow it up. Figuratively or literally.” Bond cracks him a fiendish grin.

“But that's my speciality,” he says, and saunters off with enough speed that Q would have to shout any smart arse comebacks across the room, and Q is far too professional to do that.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back at uni. I'm dying of the sicks. And the sheer level of content. We've literally just blasted through eyeballs. Next up: EARHOLES!

James is tailing a little known associate of Kit Noddy's when his phone buzzes. Not his work burner, but is _personal_ burner. He swears under his breath and reaches into his jacket pocket, eyes never leaving the swaying bottom of Miss Selina Goodkind. He flicks the top up. Darts his eyes to the text. His stomach drops and his heart stops beating because it's from Alice and there is _someone in his apartment_.

“Q,” he says. “ _Q_ ,” he repeats when there is a second of silence.

“Yes, Bond. What.”

“I have cameras in my living area. I need you to gain access and tell me who is sitting on my couch.”

“I'll just send someone around to arrest them,” Q replies, disinterested.

“Q, I need you to do this for me _now_ ,” James snarls as he taps back a reply – _sit tight_.

Q sighs. James can hear the tack of the boffin working his magic across the keyboard. It's only a thirty second wait but for James it feels like half an eternity. “It's double-oh-six. He's got a beer.” James' heart starts again and he almost sags with relief.

“Thank you, Q,” he says. Q hmmms in response, contemplative.

James hopes Alec hasn't changed his number recently and flicks him a message – _on business trip. niece in spare bedroom. care on approach. v anxious. bear dog._ Another goes to Alice – _is ok, old friend of mine_.

“He now appears to be talking to himself,” Q comments. “It's really rather peculiar.”

Of course he is. Of course Alec is talking to her through the door. James is just glad Alec is bright enough to know that 'business trip' means 'she doesn't know I'm an international super spy and some-time assassin'. That's a conversation he _really_ doesn't want to have. He allows himself a moment of wishing he was home to provide a buffer between Alec – bold, brash, rowdy Alec – and Alice.

Now that he is satisfied Alice won't be physically harmed (she may yet be mildly traumatised by his colleague and friend), the mission takes his full attention. He has not once lost sight of the elegantly flexing buttocks of Miss Selina Goodkind as she saunters her way down Grand-Rue.

 


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my defense I wrote this with a brain full of cold boogers.

If Q had continued to watch the video feed for another three hours of what appeared to be Alec losing the plot and talking to himself, he would have seen the spare room door creak open and a tiny slip of a girl ease her way out.

James gets a text. _You weren't kidding about bear dog_.

The Indian Alec orders arrives and they sit in front of the TV to eat. There is some kind of banal baking show on. It fills the silence Alec cannot, as he's rather more occupied with eating. And watching, with growing amusement and awe, as bowl after bowl of food disappears into the wee blonde.

She thanks Alec and beats a hasty retreat to her den.

James gets another text. _You're a terrible uncle. I'm staying. Promise I won't blow anything up unless I have to._

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVED WRITING THIS CHAPTER!
> 
> Also I don't know Russian. I don't know anyone who knows Russian. All hail Interbutt translations:
> 
> Хуй тебе – go fuck yourself  
> Говно – gavno - shit  
> Bыпендриваться – vypendrivat'sya - showoff

When James returns three weeks later, he finds Alec and Alice playing some kind of game on the TV involving steering wheels and a _lot_ of swearing.

“Хуй тебе!” Alice yells as one of the brightly coloured carts goes flying off the side. Alec laughs maniacally as what is clearly his cart scoots on ahead. Steve pretends to be a hearth rug in front of a pleasantly roaring fire.

“I see your time here has been well spent,” James remarks. Alice nearly jumps out of her skin in surprise. Alec takes advantage of her distraction to do something else and gain an even bigger lead.

“Говно,” Alice says emphatically. Alec cackles. James raises an eyebrow.

“James, grab a wheel and prepare to weep as I beat the living snot out of you,” Alec crows, passing the finish line well ahead of Alice.

“You're a cheating cheater who cheats,” Alice grouses, poking her tongue out. Alec grins.

“Am not,” he replies.

“Are too!”

“Not.”

“Too!”

“Not!"

“TOO!”

“Children,” James interjects. “Settle down and show me how to play so I can kick your collective asses.”

“Bыпендриваться,” Alice says.

“And _no more language lessons_ ,” James replies, casting a stern look at Alec, who is utterly unapologetic and actually looks rather proud.

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone for all the love! We all love Alec!
> 
> And, like all things with this story, he just gets better.

Alec leaves that evening. He gets a brief hug around his chest – it takes them both by surprise and leaves Alec grinning at James over a mop of blonde. “Bye Uncle Alec!” Alice says. She smiles.

James walks Alec out.

“How the _fuck_ did you manage that in three weeks?” James hisses.

“By not walking around like I have a stick up my arse, James,” Alec replies with a broad grin. James gives him the 'don't fuck with me' level look. “Look at yourself. Now look at me. Look at what you're wearing. Now back to me.” James raises his eyebrow. Alec is in comfortable jeans and a sweatshirt James knows cost at least six hundred quid. James is in a suit.

“Your point?” James grinds out.

“My point is you're _unapproachable_ to a teenage girl. Suits are too formal.”

“I wear sweatshirts.”

“With _suit pants_ , Bond, that's not _quite_ going to work. Get some cardigans. Get some slacks, or, heaven forbid, _jeans_.” James scowls. “And learn to _slouch_ for God's sake, man. If you're not at parade rest you're lounging to display your assets best, and _neither_ of those are slouching.” James scowls harder. Alec laughs. “Or, as the kids are saying these days, 'take a chill pill'.” Alec waves as he hops down the steps, blatantly ignoring James' glower.

James walks back inside. Alice has already slunk off to her room, most likely to get ready for bed. James frowns and sits on the couch. If he slumps a bit more than usual, hunches his shoulders just a fraction more, no one is there to tell.

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now these next few chapters I don't actually like, but I had to get them out so we can get to the other cool shit. So apologies if it doesn't flow quite as well as it usually does.
> 
> Also I wrote these while my brain was full of cold boogers so there's that, too.

The first person at MI6, other than Alec, to ever meet Alice Bond is in fact the front desk. Even super secret spy agencies have front desks. Delores Shipley is manning it the day an older woman walks in with a slight blonde and a giant dog in tow. Delores pushes her glasses up her nose. The dog is a clearly labelled 'assistant dog', clutched tightly by the small girl whose body language screams _deeply upset_.

“We're here for Mr James Bond,” the woman says as she approaches the desk.

“I'm afraid he's not in at the moment,” Delores replies smoothly. He is, in fact, in today. Shockingly and amazingly. She's looking forward to catching up with Stacy from IT to get the latest goss. It's always terribly exciting when one of the double-ohs is in the building. Something _always_ happens.

“Miss Alice Bond is here to see him,” the woman says with a gesture to the girl at her side.

“I'm sorry he's no-” Delores' brain takes a few moments to catch up. “I'm sorry, did you say _Miss Bond_?” she croaks.

“Yes, I did. Miss Bond is here to see him. She has said he is here today,” the woman says with a huff. Delores gives her full attention to the matter at hand.

“If you would give me one moment, I will contact someone who will be able to assist,” she says and picks up her phone. Dials the only number she can think of.

“Moneypenny speaking,” comes the voice on the other line.

“Miss Moneypenny, I have a Miss Alice Bond here to see James Bond,” Delores rushes out. There's an intake of breath and a pause.

“I'll be right down,” comes the reply and the 'click' of the phone line cutting.

Delores smiles over the desk as she puts the phone down. “Miss Moneypenny is on her way. She will be able to assist.”

It is an awkward few minutes waiting. Miss Bond is silent, staring at her hands latched in the dog's hair. The woman who brought her in is equally silent but fidgety. Eager to leave. Delores pretends to be busy on her computer and keeps an eye on the young Miss Bond.

Everyone in MI6 knows the infamous 007. James Bond. Knows his looks, some of his quirks, and definitely his propensity for inducing panic arrhythmias in most staff assigned to deal with him. Everyone also knows his _reputation_.

Delores isn't so much surprised at the young girl's appearance and more surprised at _how long it's taken_. It's always been a point of wonder in the office that no one has filed a paternity suit against Mr Bond before now. With the amount of sleeping around the man does, the chances of an 'accident' occurring is presumably quite high. Given the girl's dramatically similar resemblance, there's very little doubt in Delores' mind as to the paternity.

Miss Moneypenny stalks out into the foyer at speed. She comes to a dead stop beside the desk.

“Miss Bond, I presume?” she asks.

The woman steps forward, placing a hand in the middle of Miss Bond's back. “Yes. We're here to see Mr James Bond,” the woman explains. Miss Moneypenny's eyes are sharp when they glance at the woman.

“Miss Bond only,” she replies. “I will take her from here.”

The woman turns to Miss Bond. “Will you be alright here, Alice?” she asks. The girl nods. Doesn't raise her head. “Very well,” she directs at Miss Moneypenny. “Please take her directly to Mr James Bond.”

Miss Moneypenny grins. “Oh I shall,” she says. Gestures towards the large doors behind the front desk. “If you would kindly come this way, Miss Bond.”

Miss Bond's shoulders creep up further and her fingers tighten in her dog's coat, but she follows Miss Moneypenny into the building.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we get to the moment you've all been waiting for.
> 
> And soon we get to the moment(s) I've been waiting for *evil cackle*.
> 
> Also, to all of you who review, I love you to bits. You keep me writing.

It's the barking that confuses James, and gives him the first indication that something is very awry. He saunters up the hall towards M's office.

“You've been living with him for _how long?_ ” Eve's voice is shrill, even through the door. That bark again. James braces himself and opens the door.

Steve is trying to insert himself between Alice and Eve Moneypenny on the leather couch. Eve has an arm across Alice's shoulders. Steve barks again.

“Eve,” James says, stepping fully into the room. She looks up. “Get off.” She looks offended and sits up straight, keeping the hand on Alice's other shoulder. James rolls his eyes and plucks Eve's hand off, waving her away and kneeling down on his haunches in front of his niece.

“Alice,” he tries. Her eyes remain downcast. Shoulders remain up by her ears. Muscles remain rigid and breath short and tight. “Alice,” he says again.

“She was fine a moment ago,” Eve says.

James ignores her and grabs Alice's hand, pushing her fingers into Steve's long coat. The fingers curl into a white knuckled grip.

“Alice, are these noise cancelling headphones?” he asks, tapping a finger to the bulky things around her neck. A tiny nod. “I'm going to put them on you, then we're going to go for a little walk to somewhere nice and quiet, does that sound alright?” Another nod. James lifts the earphones away and carefully positions them over her ears, brushing her hair out of the way as he does so. She immediately lets out the breath she's been holding.

“Who brought her here?” James asks, mild and dangerous.

“Delores didn't take her name,” Eve replies. She shifts her weight in response to the threat undertone.

“I'll speak with you about this later,” he says, and it is a terrifying promise. “She has an assistant dog for a reason.” James rests his palm beneath Alice's elbow and helps her to her feet, releasing her as soon as she's up. Steve curls around her other side.

It is not a long walk to the Q department, but they take it slow. James on one side, Steve on the other, with Alice keeping her head down and one hand on each of them. She clings to James' sleeve the whole way down.

The entire Q department freezes in place when James walks in. It takes Q a moment to notice the unnatural stillness. His eyebrow raises to his hairline as he takes in the sight, eyes darting to take in the three of them. He relaxes minutely as he takes in the 'Assistant Dog' harness.

“What have you brought for me this time, Bond?” he asks.

“My niece, Alice, and her assistant dog, Steve,” James says shortly. “Are you able to fit her into a quiet corner somewhere?” Q's eyebrows even off and he nods. “I have to take care of something quickly.”

“Absolutely,” Q says. “I'll take it from here.” He bends at the knees until his face is in Alice's downcast view. Waits until she looks at him, then mimes removing the headphones.

She does. Looks up. Her eyes fix on a point on the wall to Q's left.

“Hello, Alice, my name is Q,” Q says as he stands back up. “I take it you're the one who plays all the games James has been asking me about?” She nods. “I'm having particular difficulty with the Highland Ravager in Inquisition. Have you managed to kill her?”

James peels away as Q steps in, careful to remain just outside of her personal space. Alice tugs her long sleeves down and shrugs. Q maintains the conversation until they're nearly at his office door, when Alice finally pipes up.

James leaves.

 


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So updates are likely to be slow(er) over the next three weeks or so, possibly longer. I've got two weeks of calving to do, and if my menagerie and I don't get cryptosporidia, I should be back and ready to go in 2 1/2 weeks.
> 
> If I or anyone in my menagerie do get crypto, I'll probably be back in 1 1/2 months.

The first thing on his to do list is to contact her school, find out what happened, and give them a right bollocking. Physically threatening the principal would, unfortunately, be frowned upon by M, and so James refrains from pursuing that line of action. He does, however, get put straight through to Alice's homeroom teacher, one Miss Jones.

Miss Jones admits she is still not sure exactly what set her off, but that when she turned around, Steve was barking and Alice was catatonic. She'd put the noise cancelling headphones on her, cleared the room, drawn the blinds and dimmed the light to reduce external stimuli and waited. One of the students ran to fetch the nurse – the woman who brought her to James' place of work.

“I spoke with Mr Brunn himself to discuss her situation. My class size is very small, and I've worked with a couple of high functioning autistic children before,” Miss Jones explains. “Alice is remarkably well adjusted, and this is her first episode since joining us in February. She has finally begun to voluntarily interact during class. This episode could be a setback, as it appears to have no trigger. I suspect this has been coming on for quite some time. How is her home life?”

James purses his lips and frowns. “Quiet and peaceful,” he says, though he admits he is not entirely sure. Despite the obvious affection Alice showed, the last three weeks with Alec could have been a bit much. Alec can be overwhelming at the best of times.

“Okay, I think it would be a good idea for her to come to school tomorrow to maintain her usual routine – any break in routine can have a dramatic effect on her – and I'll see if I can talk to her about it,” Miss Jones says. “Thank you for calling to find out what happened. I understand you're her uncle, and new to the joys of teenage parenthood, so please don't hesitate to call me if you have any questions or would like some advice.”

“Thank you, Miss Jones, I may keep you in reserve for special occasions,” James purrs. Miss Jones titters on the phone.

“Very good, it was nice speaking to you Mr Bond,” she replies, and hangs up.

 


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awh, who doesn't love Q?

James returns to the Q branch after a Brief Chat with Miss Moneypenny detailing quite clearly that Alice is not to be touched, and not just because James is protective but because she is actually a 'don't touch' person. Eve apologised profusely for her miscalculation. James is still disgruntled.

He finds Alice in Q's office, curled up on the couch. One of Q's cardigans nearly drowns her as she taps away at a little hand-held device. Her earphones are on and Steve flops up against her. She doesn't look up from whatever has her engrossed.

Q does. Pre-empts his question. “Too much sensory input. The top she was wearing was too tight and the fabric too harsh. She's got Danielle's spare gym top on as well.”

James nods. He'd noticed her peculiar sleeve tugging and shrugging, but hadn't been able to place the movement. With hind sight, the movement was clearly one to relieve discomfort of a constriction around the shoulders / armpits. James files it away for future reference.

“How is she?” James asks.

“She's settled,” Q replies. “Although the underlying cause hasn't been addressed, the reduction in external input and something fun, relaxing and predictable to occupy her mind has helped.” Q turns his considerable attention to James. “Now you're going to tell me how your niece has come to live with you _and_ how long she's been living with you, because I know your mission record for the last two years and I cannot fathom how you could have been looking after a fifteen year old girl at _any stage_ during that time.”

James mentally gulps and braces himself. Outwardly he remains calm. “She's been living with me since her mother died in a car accident in February.” There's a moment of quiet.

“Please tell me you hired a house sitter to look after her,” Q says, voice deadly flat. James fidgets. “You irresponsible _twit!_ You've hardly had two months total in London since then! You _cannot_ leave a _fifteen year old girl_ at home alone, especially not one who has _just lost her mother_!” Q hisses. He flashes a quick glance at Alice, who is still engrossed in her game.

“She's _fine_ , Q! She's perfectly capable of looking after herself. I've modified the apartment, she has emergency contact details, she has one of my credit cards,” James growls back. Q glares. Opens his mouth. Alice shifts on the couch. Q shuts his mouth with a clack. Narrows his eyes.

“We will discuss this _later_.” Q withdraws his index finger from where it is dangerously close to James' nose and returns to his desk. “I'll get you when she's ready to go, now get out.” James blinks and makes a leisurely and highly strategic retreat.

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been wanting to write this chapter since I thought up this story. I wrote it up last week and I have restrained myself very hard from mass posting all the previous chapters just so I could post this one (because I'm a review hog).
> 
> All miss-spellings are entirely intentional. Gaps indicate brief passages of time.

001 pops her head into Q's office. Spends ten seconds staring intently at Alice and then Steve – who lifts his head to watch right on back – and departs.

 

**Open:  001; 002; 003; 004; 005; 006; 008; 009**

**001:** 7 has spawned.

 

**003:** Wat

**001:** 7 has spawned and she is cuter than 8 and his lego collection.

 

**003:** Srsly? Sht

**004:** lies, all babies are ugly.

 

**001:** Teenage girls aren't.

**003:** WAT

**004:** how?

 

**008:** FUK U

**008:** whr she cm frm?

**001:** Are you allergic to vowels?

**008:** Fuck. You.

 

**004:** how have we only just learned about this?

**001:** Don't know. Familial resemblance is VERY strong.

 

**006:** niece not spawn

**001:** Definitely daughter.

**006:** niece, have met, good kid, bear dog.

**003:** ?????

**004:** how?

**001:** That would explain why she's only turned up now, but why now?

 

**006:** well when a Bond sister and some other guy love each other very much...

**006:** mum died, car accident, written into will

**003:** sum1 gave 7 a kid?

**004:** why would she do that? doesn't she no her bro at all?

 

**006:** she didn't know she had an uncle until her mum died

 

**001:** The Bond family must have very dominant genes. I should start her early.

**006:** dont u fukn dare

**001:** Or what?

**006:** or me. and james.

**001:** Like you two could take me down.

 

**006:** Q would help.

**001:** Understood.

 

**003:** WHY WOULD SHE DO THAT?

 

**008:** she cant play wit my legos

**004:** omg not everyone wants to touch your lego 8

**006:** lego is fun might be good family bonding

**001:** I'll get some lego.

**006:** u can be honorary aunt. I already honorary uncle.

**001:** Plan.

 

**003:** can I cm 2?

**001:** Only if you behave.

**006:** no. ull teach her knives and I bagsed that. and h2h, 1.

**001:** I'm the logical teacher for h2h, plus I'm more her size, can teach her tips and tricks to beat bigger people.

**006:** no h2h, v v anxious re social, physical contact v scary 4 her

**003:** knifs =/= contact i teach

**006:** no I bagsed first

**008:** fuk u all I teach her grenades

**006:** not until james teaches her guns

 

**004:** can she even drive? Bags

**006:** don no, james will teach

**004:** i drive better

**006:** u blow up cars less not drive better

**004:** my returns record is fantastic

**001:** Correlation =/= causation, 4

**004:** to take a note from 8, fuck you, 1, I drive fantastically

 

**003:** no u dont u broke a gearbox tryn2 do a hill start in san fran u fuk

**004:** fuck you 3 it was a fucked gearbox

 

**001:** How long has she been living with him?

**006:** since feb

 

**001:** I'm going to murder 7.

**006:** no ur not then shed be orphaned again and id have to take her in

**001:** I'm not going to murder 7 but I will have a stern word with him, she's young and impressionable and needs adult supervision

 

**006:** I looked after her for 3 wks while 7 was off on mission she was fine

**001:** You're not adult supervision

**006:** sure I am! I didn't even set anything on fire

**006:** except the fire place, but that was deliberate

 

**003:** ur nt adult 6

**006:** oh and u r 3?

**003:** no bt im nt sayin i am

**004:** i am! i can niece sit!

**006:** no niece sitting damnit

**001:** Well someone has to check up on her when 7 isn't around.

**006:** yes but no niece sitting, u dont have 2 b there all day 2 make sure shes ok

**001:** It would be good if someone was around, since 7 isn't doing his parental duties

**006:** she's a good kid doesnt get into trouble

 

**001:** We were all teenagers once.

**003:** dnt remind me plz I ws a sht

**004:** i was always playing with knives

**006:** okay someone needs to check up on her a least once a day

**001:** Yes, someone does.

 

**003:** BAGS 2NITE!

**001:** 7 isn't on a mission so he can do that.

**003:** dmn

 

**004:** shotgun first mission

**006:** nope I bagsed

**004:** how cm u bagsd all th good things?

**006:** I get preferential treatment im uncle alec

 

**001:** Preferential treatment doesn't matter if you're not in the country.

**006:** oh you didn't

**001:** Maybe.

**006:** I will have my revenge.

**001:** Maybe.

**004:** fine we play it by ear whoever is in country gets dibs

 

**003:** I FLY BAK ON TH WINGS OF ANGLS 2 NIECE SIT

**006:** like shit you will

**001:** No skipping missions. We are still professionals.

 

**003:** no u

**001:** Last I checked you were considered a 'professional' as well, 3.

 

**003:** ur not my mum

**001:** No, but I am onsite and not afraid to go to M.

**003:** fuk u

**004:** buuuuurrrrnnnn

**001:** Whenever he's on a mission, we play it by ear. OK?

**006:** sounds good by me but if he's out and I'm in the country I bags. his bed is nicer

**003:** fne

**004:** OK

**008:** I maybe bring lego.

**001:** Okay, I'll keep you posted.

 

 

 

 

 

**005:** OMG IM SO EXCITED I BAKED CUPCAKES I LOVE BABIES

**005:** although not sure how I feel about Bond Baby

 

 

 

**005:** I'm sad, no babies, I ate the cupcakes

 

 

 

 

 

**M:** With regards to the above, I expect you all to report directly to me immediately after each inspection. Miss Moneypenny will fulfil the obligation should none of you be available to do so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**002:** wtf

 


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few teeny chapters before feels.

M drops by Q-department. Ostensibly to 'see how the projects are coming along'.

He makes a beeline for Q's office and pulls Q to one side. Alice doesn't notice. “So that's her?” Q raises an eyebrow.

“I trust that is a rhetorical question and you do not require an affirmation to what is _quite clearly_ a teenage girl related to Bond,” Q replies. M blinks.

“Very good,” M says, and leaves.

 


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First week of calving done. Why am I doing this again? Oh, that's right, because stripping is overrated.
> 
> One more week then I'm back to my usual 'study all the days, write during study breaks'.

James receives a text. _Heard through the grapevine she's at the office. She OK?_

James taps out the reply. _She's with Big Boffin. Got overwhelmed at school. She's doing better now._

 _She's missing her mum_ comes the reply without pause.

 _What makes you say that?_ James asks.

 _I read things_.

_You're just trying to usurp me as favourite Uncle._

_I already am favourite Uncle._

_Lies and slander._

_Delusional. Keep me updated._

_Will do. Liar._

 


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Incoming feels.

They leave MI6 in silence. Alice is tense the whole ride home. She makes an immediate escape to her bedroom. She cringes out for dinner and sits with her body curled into herself. Almost as if she were...

Expecting him to be angry.

It takes James most of the meal for the lightbulb moment, and he blinks back to reality just in time to halt Alice as she rises to flee the kitchen counter.

He really must invest in a table at some stage.

“Alice, wait,” he says. She freezes. Doesn't look at him. Very _carefully_ doesn't look at him. “It was good that you sought me out today,” he enunciates. Slowly, so he cannot be misheard or misconstrued. He knows she won't. Knows she will take his words at face value as truth. “You may do so whenever you need. If I am not in, there will always be a quiet area for you in the Q-department.”

There's a moment of quiet while James lets that sink in. It stretches. There's a sniffle and Alice collapses back into her chair.

“I really miss Mum,” she says and hiccups.

James internally blanches. He's never been much of an emotions man. Stiff upper lip and all that jazz. He detests the psych department and their constant desire to stir up that which serves no one any good to stir. He's a double-oh for a reason, and one of those reasons is his ability to compartmentalise and focus on the task at hand, to put aside things such as emotion and see the situation with an unclouded perspective. It's part of what makes him so good at what he does.

Emotions are just not something James _does_. They never really have been.

“What happened?” James asks.

“One of the other students was talking about their mum and I don't _have_ one any more and I miss her and she was never home but she was my _mum_ ,” Alice wails and covers her face with her hands. She sobs.

James is not suited for this. James is so not suited for this. He pats her shoulder awkwardly. She sniffles in response. “I'm not going to lie and tell you everything is going to be okay. Your mother is gone. Nothing will change that,” James says. “Nothing is going to make that better.” He pauses to rub her shoulder and she leans into the contact. The tears drop faster. He swallows. Realises he's just about to open up a giant can of feely worms. “But you're not alone. I'm here. And if I'm not, Alec is.”

They sit there for a while. Alice hiccuping and James just resting his hand on her shoulder. She doesn't move to hug him, nor he her. They remain like that until Alice's breathing has slowed and the tears no longer track down her chin.

“Thanks, Uncle James,” she says.

“No thanks needed. Now get some rest, you've had a trying day.” She nods and stands up. Pauses a moment. Looks at him with an expression James can't quite place.

She dives in for a quick hug, there and gone, around his shoulders. She skitters off to her room. “Good night Uncle James,” she says, and he knows he must be doing _something_ right.

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tiny update. Back at uni. Weather is gorgeous. Energy levels slowly returning.
> 
> More naps required.

_It was missing mum_ , James sends.

 _Told you so,_ comes the reply. _Shock of massive change likely delayed onset of grief._

 _What have you been reading?_ James asks.

_Things. Useful things. Keep me updated._

_Highlights of your reading would be appreciated._

_Maybe. Keep me updated._

_Yes, fine._

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feels chapter! Next chapter isn't written yet, so it may take me a while to post. Russian is Interbutt Translation (words at end).

The next day begins as normal. Alice takes Steve for his morning walk. They come back, have breakfast at the kitchen bar while James reads in the arm chair, and she departs with the normal 'have a nice day' platitudes with her earphones on.

She comes barreling right back in. James stands quickly, eyes darting past her to sweep the street outside. She shuts the door behind her and tucks her head, breathing heavily.

“What's wrong?” James asks, moving close enough for her to pick up his shoes in her periphery. She takes off her headphones.

“I don't want to go to school,” she says quietly.

“Why don't you want to go to school?” he asks.

“I just don't want to,” she replies, pushing past him and towards her bedroom, Steve trotting along beside her. James stops her with a hand on her arm.

“Alice,” he begins, and she flinches, tugs her arm free and spins on him.

“I don't want to go, okay!” she shouts at him. She storms off toward her room. “You can't make me go, you're not my mum!” she yells right before the door slams shut.

“No,” James says, raising his voice to be heard through the door. “I'm your uncle!” An inarticulate scream of frustration comes from the other side of the door. James sighs and pads to the lounge, where he picks up his cellphone and calls Alice's school to inform them she will _not_ be joining them today.

He then texts Alec. _She doesn't want to go to school._

_Thought that would happen. I b over in a few._ James grinds his teeth and settles himself in to wait. He's going to need to have a word with Alec about sharing his information.

True to his word, Alec appears at his front door within fifteen minutes. James is entirely uncertain where Alec is currently living, as he burned down his last flat. He's fairly confident Alec is also on the 'black list' – the list every rental agent denies existing which lists the tenants to which you simply Do Not Rent.

“Right, where is she?” Alec says by way of greeting, brushing straight past James and into the apartment. James jerks his head in the direction of her bedroom.

“In there, won't come out,” James says.

“Right,” Alec says, and James is suddenly deeply concerned, because that look on Alec's face is the one he gets right before a particularly nasty mission. The ones that usually go tits up with explosions. Alec takes a moment to … James actually has no idea what Alec does. On almost any other man, James would link that particular expression to the act of bracing oneself.

He charges forward. Knocks on the door.

“Go away!” comes the shout from the other side.

“Солнышко,” Alec says, pressing his forehead to the door.

“Оставьте меня в покое!”

“Всё в порядке?”

“Нет," comes the quiet reply. 

“Поговори со мной, моё золотце. Почему не в школе?” Alec says, sliding down so his back is pressed against the door and his legs are sprawled out in front of him. 

James watches. There is silence for a long time. Then a thump at the door, and Alec lets his head relax forwards in relief. James realises this is something they have done before. Not exactly this situation – talking to an emotional young teenage girl who refuses to go to school – but they have sat on either side of the door and spoken to each other before. 

He's not sure how he feels about that.

“They'll think I'm stupid,” comes the quiet admission. James tenses. Alec's eyes pinch. 

“Why will they think you are stupid, mоё золотце?” Alec keeps his voice light. There is a shuffling from the other side of the door.

“Because I freaked out,” she sighs. There's a thump as though her head hits the door. 

“And you think you do not have an understandable reason to 'freak out'?” Alec asks. This time there is a long silence. James observes Alec as he waits, patiently, for Alice to process the new information, the new viewpoint. 

“...no...?” she mumbles. 

“Ой моя милая, you've lost your мама, you miss her. Everyone misses their мама,” Alec replies.

“Even you?” she asks. 

Alec closes his eyes and swallows. “Even me, моё золотце.” 

“I really miss her, дядя." This sounds as though it is pressed into the woodwork. 

“I know you do, моя милая, and you probably always will. You will have other times when you are upset, or when things get too much, and anyone who does not understand these moments is a придурок who has never experienced loss themselves,” Alec explains. 

“Did you get upset?” 

“Yes, моё золотце, I did,” Alec says. His voice is quiet. 

“Does it stop hurting?”

“No, моё золотце, not completely,” he says. 

James sighs internally. The house is a clusterfuck of orphans. His own parents' death affected him. If he admits it, which he never will, even under pain of death, it still does.  His lips turn down. Alec is right. It never truly stops hurting. He's a braver man than James to say it aloud, even for the benefit of another. 

Alec moves, slowly climbs to his feet and opens the door, showing Alice still hunched on the floor in the doorframe without the wood panneling to support her. “Иди ко мне, моя милая,” he says, and opens his arms. Alice clambers to her feet and throws herself into his chest and she is enveloped in a hug. They stay like that for a long time until Alec finally pulls back to look down at her. “Now, are you ready to go to school?” Alice makes a face up at him.

“If I must, дядя," she replies. 

“Education is important. Why don't you go get yourself ready and Uncle James will walk you in?” Alec says, glancing over Alice's head to where James stands, still unsure if he's uncomfortable with the level of _feelings_ in the apartment but unprepared to show either his confusion or his potential discomfort. 

“A morning walk will do me some good,” James says. Alice nods and shuffles back into her room to get her things. James steps into Alec's personal space. “You are going to share your resources with me,” he purrs, the threat of 'or else' lingering in the limited space between them. Alec's eyes twinkle. 

“Maybe.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Солнышко - SOlnyshko - little sun  
> Оставьте меня в покое! - Ostav'te menja v pokoe - go away!  
> Всё в порядке? - VsyO v poryAdke? - Is everything all right?  
> Нет – net – no  
> Поговори со мной - Pogovori so mnoy – talk to me  
> Моё золотце - MoyO zOlotse - my gold  
> Почему не в школе? - Pochemu ne v shkole? - why are you not in school?  
> Ой Моя милая – Oy mIlaya moyA – oh my sweet (to female)  
> дядя – dyadya – uncle  
> придурок – pridurok - moron  
> Иди ко мне, моя милая - IdI ko mne, moyA mIlaya - come to me my dear (to female)


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo! Written while waiting for my Everything In Tomato Thing to cook and trying to fix my bleeding Bluetooth, which has decided its drivers are possibly corrupt or it's just a bit spesh.

It takes Alice a few minutes to get ready. Alec and James spend those minutes facing off against one another: James glaring balefully, Alec trying hard not to burst out laughing.

The walk to school is quiet. Alice has her noise-cancelling headphones on. James doesn't mind. He walks her to the gate, and she pauses, expecting him to depart at this stage. He gestures for her to continue and she shrugs. She pauses again at the front door, but he just opens it and gestures her forward. It's now well past the start of class and the hallways are vacant.

James walks Alice right up to her classroom door, while she fidgets uncomfortably, twisting her fingers in Steve's fur or the hem of her jumper.

“Thank you for walking me to school, Uncle James,” she says in a rush, before she pushes through the door and into the classroom. James opens the door after her, and catches the eye of the petite brunette at the head of the class.

“Keep working on your writing, I'll be back in just a moment. I'll be right outside the door, so don't try anything,” she warns, and steps through the door, pushing James out and into the hallway.

“Miss Jones, I presume?” James purrs, eyes lidded and dusky. She titters.

“I assume you are Mister James Bond?” she questions by way of answer, holding her hand out in greeting. He shakes her hand, fingers lingering just a bit too long on her wrist as they part. Her pupils dilate.

“The very same,” he replies.

“Would you care to explain to me why my pupil is tardy?” she asks, raising an eyebrow. Ah, she is a good teacher. She has perfected The Look. It almost works on James. _Almost_.

“She didn't want to come to school. She thought the other students would think less of her for what happened yesterday,” James explains. Miss Jones nods.

“I'm glad you managed to convince her to come in, even if it is a bit late. It's important for her to maintain her routinue, especially during times like these,” Miss Jones says. “Thank you for bringing her in, Mr Bond, I'd best return to my class.”

James smiles, that devastatingly suggestive one he _knows_ makes women weak at the knees. Miss Jones flushes, but makes it back to her classroom without so much as a stumble. James smirks as he turns back.

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Powered by my entire music collection (collected since I was 12) on shuffle. Song 6: Dragon Ball Z; Song 8: Hamster Dance; Song 16: Bananaphone.

“Now,” Alec says when James makes it in the front door. “Why don't we go out and have a coffee and discuss this _like adults_.” James snorts.

“How long have you been plagued by these delusions?” he asks. Alec pulls a face at him.

“Hardy-fucking-har Bond. Got your wallet?” James nods. “Good, you're paying.” James pretends to look outraged for the brief few seconds it takes for Alec to brush past him and back out the door.

The walk to the local (incredibly ‘hip’) café is relatively quiet. James ruminates over the morning and Alec seems wilfully oblivious to everything except the particularly pert bottoms of ladies waggling past. It’s only when they order their coffees and settle into a window seat with full view of the street from both seats that James begins to talk.

“So, tell me, have you been delving into the world of Parenting Magazines, or should I be looking for your soon-to-be-published meta-analysis of currently literature on parenting?” James asks, arching an eyebrow at Alec, who has the decency to look almost embarrassed. “Oh god, it's the Parenting Magazines, isn't it?”

Alec clears his throat. “It's not _just_ Parenting Magazines. There's a lot of information online if you know where to look.” James levels him a Look. “Not just from quacks and parents, but psychologists and medical professionals,” Alec defends. “Look, I knew you'd be up shit creek just as much as I was, so I did some reading while I was niece sitting.” Alec falls quiet as their coffees are served, then he leans in. “Look, she's not like you or I, she _can_ feel. She _can_ be vulnerable and not be extorted. She's not going to end up like us, drinking ourselves stupid until even we think we don't feel.”

James sighs and rubs his forehead. “You're right,” he says. Alec leans back.

“Of course I'm right.” Takes a sip of his coffee. “I'm the favourite Uncle after all.” James glares at him. “For the record, she thinks the sun shines out of your arse. Don't know how it got up there, but there you go.”

James takes a long sip of his coffee to hide the smile that tugs at his mouth.

 


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Need ... more ... coffee ...
> 
> For the record I have no idea what gets taught in highschool these days, or when. I don't even understand the English school system. So I'm just making this up as I go along.

Alice returns home to Alec sitting on the couch, Guardian newspaper in hand and a cup of tea at his right elbow. He looks up and slaps the newspaper shut. “How was your day?” he asks.

“It was okay,” she replies, releasing Steve from his harness. Steve bounds into the lounge and greets Alec with a snout to the face and an excited tail thwap to his chest as he continues around the couch to return to his mistress.

“What did you get up to?”

“Maths and stuff,” she says.

“Blegh, maths. Have you solved for X yet?” Alec grimaces. She nods. “How are you going with biology?” he asks.

“We're learning about the circulatory and respiratory systems now in class,” she replies. “I didn't know the heart had its own pacemaker cells. Even if all the nerves to the heart stop working, it will keep pumping normally!”

Alec smiles, and his eyes crinkle. “That's very cool. What about breathing? Can you still breathe if none of the nerves work?”

“Nope, but you can at least set up things to breathe for you. It's kinda hard to make a heart beat when it doesn't want to,” she says.

“It's good that you're learning these things,” Alec says. She nods, enthusiastic for once. “Now why don't you come over here and let me kick your ass at Mario Kart again?” His smile is slow and lazy.

Alice gets a look on her face. He's not entirely sure how to interpret that look. She shakes her head and grins. “How about Wii Bowling? Have you tried that before?” she asks. Alec hasn't.

Three hours later, not even James can defeat Alice, who cackles with unbridled glee.

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may be a little while before I manage to update again. We're 6 weeks out from end of year exams and I'm trying really hard not to panic! A whole year of anatomy! EEK!
> 
> And now we meet 005 :D

It is, in fact, 005 who gets the first round of 'niece sitting' when James is sent on an op to Suriname.

001 is furious, having been shipped out herself that morning. 003 is in denial that his op in Andorra exists and insists he's on the first flight back (they all know he's not – he may be an overly enthusiastic twat, but he is still a professional).

So 005 finds himself knocking on the front door of James Bond's apartment, arms full of cake tins containing exquisitely decorated rose-and-raspberry cupcakes and bags of groceries.

“Yoohoo!” he calls. He hears the snick snick snick of various bolts being drawn back, and the tell-tale clunk of a deadbolt opening. He smiles. The door creaks open on a thick bolt-chain. A storm-grey eye and half a pale face peer out at him.

“Who are you?” she asks.

“I'm Finn Fletcher, one of James' friends!” he replies cheerily. “I know he's away on business so thought I'd drop by and cook!” Her eyes narrow.

He can really see why 001 thought she was Bond's child. Barring the striking family resemblance, they have a very similar calculating look.

“Uncle James says not to let anyone I don't know in,” she says, pushing the door just a little further shut. 005 smiles more. Good girl. Smart girl.

“I'll ask James to let you know it's okay to let me in, how does that sound?” He slowly and carefully juggles his bags to reach into his jeans pocket to pull out his phone.

“Okay,” she replies slowly.

 _On doorstep with lots of food, tell niece I ok plz_ , he sends. Hopes James actually has his phone on him.

 _black hole masquerading as teenager/hollow legs. don't know which it is but she eats like an elephant. caution: bear dog._ There is a trilling sounds that could possibly indicate an incoming message on the other side of the door.

“Okay,” she says, and shuts the door. It reopens moments later minus the chain and swings all the way.

“Sweet baby Jesus!” 005 exclaims as a hairy bear pushes its way out the door to sniff his crotch and wag its tail. It is deeply alarming that the bear can reach his crotch without having to raise its head at all, as 005 is a neat two metres in bare feet.

“Steve,” the tiny girl says. The bear does not cease its now vigorous sniffing of the contents of 005's arms. “Come.” The bear does so, turning around and thwacking its tail into 005's thigh. She looks up. “Come in,” she says, stepping behind the door to allow him through and shutting the door behind her. “I'm Alice,” she tells the door. 005 toes off his shoes.

“It's very nice to meet you, Alice!” 005 says. “Sorry to pop by unannounced, I wasn't sure if I was off on a business trip today or not, or I'd have had James forewarn you,” he burbles, bustling through into the kitchen, bear-dog and tiny teenager in tow. “So I baked some cupcakes- don't worry, they're gluten free, though they're definitely not _sugar_ free-” he puts the cake tins down on the bench and giggles. She gives him a funny look. “- and I brought ingredients for pheasant in plum sauce on rice pilaf with an apricot and walnut side salad. Have you ever had pheasant? Do you like duck?” She blinks. She doesn't look at him.

“Duck is nice,” she says quietly.

“Excellent!” 005 claps his hands and rubs them together. “You should like pheasant, it's a delightful meat to cook with.” He begins to fossick around the kitchen, pulling out pots and pans and chopping boards and knives. Alice sits down at the kitchen island. Her dog presses itself into her side. Her hand is in its coat.

“So I hear you like computer games? I haven't played anything since Tetris back in the days. Oh, no, that's a lie, I used to be really good at Duke Nukem, but that was a _long_ time ago,” 005 begins.

And it continues like that. 005 burbles. He's always been good at burbling on. And slowly but surely Alice's shoulders unclench, and her eyes drift closer and closer to wherever he is standing at the time, and her dog lies down. She unwinds. Bit by bit.

By the time the roast pheasant in plum sauce is ready, she's even smiling in his general direction and putting in her own quiet words every once in a while, so he gives her more opportunity to, asks her questions, involves her in the conversation rather than just speaking to fill the quiet space. He places the - plate, artfully arranged with pleasant leg and breast displayed atop rice pilaf, the fresh apricot and walnut salad arranged to to one side, and a generous drizzle of plum sauce across the lot – on the kitchen island in front of her with a bow and flourish. Her cheeks pink up and she smiles at the plate.

“Thank you,” she says in the direction of the pheasant. 005 beams.

“Bon appétit!” he says, and picks up his own knife and fork. He has elected to stand on the other side of the kitchen island, predominantly so that he can observe Alice's reaction to the meal, but also so as not to crowd her. He knows he's big and imposing, so putting an object between them will bring her an extra level of comfort. She doesn't need to know it's a simple matter to jump over it, or overturn it – although he wouldn't put it past Bond to have some kind of explosive device built into the foundations of the bloody thing.

Bond has always been a tad obsessed with exploding things.

He's part way through cutting his own pheasant breast when Alice takes a bite of her own. She pauses for a second and her eyes widen. She looks up at him and _directly at him_ with a look of amazement, and 005 can only wonder if it's possible to die from happy.

“This is fantastic!” she exclaims, and digs into the pheasant with relish.

005 can't stop the stupid grin from breaking out on his face. Or the delighted blush.


	34. Chapter 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahahaha study? Shit I should be doing it.

005 knocks on the front door of the Bond apartment. He'd requested (and received) Alice's general timetable from James and distributed it around the other 00s so they can pop around at a suitable time to check on her – or, in 005's case, provide oodles of food. Tonight's menu is baked kahawai (no one asks how 005 manages to get the food he does, they just roll with it) with lemon, orange and parsley, on a goats feta and orange risotto with buckwheat salad.

He's really rather excited. He doesn't often get his hands on kahawai.

005 knocks again. “Yoohoo!” he calls.

There's no answer. He puts his bags on the ground. Scans the building for broken or warped windows. Jogs around the back and checks that entrance. Knocks on the front door again.

Whips out his phone.

“Q department,” he barks as soon as the line is connected.

“Denise speaking,” comes the smooth voice.

“Bond's apartment. Give me all in-and-out in the past twenty four hours. Get eyes on Alice Bond, _stat_ ,” he growls into the phone and hangs up. Denise will contact him when she has the information. In the meantime, he has some people of his own to talk to for information.

005 is half way down the road when his phone goes off. He swipes it open.

It's a 'selfie' of Q. Behind Q, on the couch, sits Alice and Bear Dog, comfortably engrossed in some kind of hand-held device.

_Damnit Q I was half scared to death she should have been home, I'm coming to pick her up. I'm making her nice dinner._

_Very well,_ comes the response. _I will notify you next time she stops by after school._

_Good._

 


	35. Chapter 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm on tumblr, dogtorbones dot tumblr dot com. Not much up there yet but pop by anyway.
> 
> I am now officially in my last month of my twenties. I should do something totally insane. Instead I am disappearing into study for my up-coming exams. There may be no updates for a bit...

005 arrives at MI6. There is an abnormal hush through the halls. The population tends towards an increase the closer he gets to the Q department. He opens the door to the department.

Denise immediately approaches him, hands on hips. "As you can see she's perfectly fine here," she admonishes. "You don't need to come pick her up like some kind of bodyguard, we were going to take her and Steve out for a walk through one of the local parks before feeding her and getting her home in plenty of time. She's even done all of her homework."

005 looks down at the dumply little woman.

"I'm here to take her home so I can make her _dinner_ , Denise, like I did _last_ night," he sighs. "I know she's safe here." He runs a hand through his hair and down his beard. "I just had such a panic when she didn't answer the door, I was so worried I'd lost her or she'd gotten hurt or something and it's only the first time Bond's been away and my first time niece sitting and I just panicked, okay?"

Denise's stern look melts into something a bit like sympathy, and he's struck with the realisation that she has _kids_ , so she knows what it's like. A hand goes on his arm and tugs him further into the Q department.

"Don't worry, why don't we set up a system so we can 'check in' when we've got her? She likes it down here. It's quiet and it's company while James is out of town. And Steve loves the attention he's getting," she says, and points at the Bear Dog who is currently surrounded by four Boffinettes cooing over him with a look of _absolute bliss_ on his doggish face.

"That'll be a good idea. You probably don't want double-oh-two to be unable to locate Alice when it's her turn to niece sit," 005 says. They both take a moment to shudder. While 007 may be a menace, 002 is a tiny, red-head, _unholy terror_. It is to everyone's great relief that she is usually given long-term assignments far far away from MI6.

"Speaking of, she left something in one of our drop boxes the other day," Denise grabs a squishy blue paper bag and hands it to him. It's addressed to "Bond Jr". 005 compresses it between his fingers warily. Denise shrugs. "It can't be that bad if she's sending it through us."

"This is two we're talking about," 005 says.

"Yes, this is two we're talking about. You know how she is, it's probably some hideous scarf," Denise replies. "Now go collect your ward and get out of Q-branch. _Some_ of us have work to do."


	36. Chapter 36

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2/5 exams down! Now I've only got infectious diseases and parasitology exam and lab exam, and anatomy lab exam. One of our lecturers is obsessed with Aliens and is dead convinced they got the idea for the facehuggers from helminth copulatory bursa - WHICH I TOTALLY AGREE THOSE THINGS ARE TERRIFYING MINIATURE FACEHUGGERY THINGS. 
> 
> Seriously, if you ever want to lose your ability to eat pasta of any kind, study parasites. (I say as I scarf down spaghetti)
> 
> There may be another 2 week break in updating - next week I'm in and out of internet connections, and then the week after I'm totally out of internet connection. Then December I'm out of internet for a whole month! And while I'm out of internets, I'm going to be living on kajun smoked kahawai, smoked tuna, and garlic mussels. OMNOMNOM!

005 hands the package to Q. “Scan it, make sure it's safe,” he says. Q nods and puts it on his desk beside him, pulling what looks like a bastardisation between an ultrasound scanner and a karaoke microphone. 005 turns to Alice, who is safely ensconced in Q's sofa with her headphones on and one of those new Game Boy – no, Nintendo … what were they again? DS! - things in her hands.

005 suspects he's going to need to do a bit of a gaming technology update. It's been a long time since he's used technology for much other than cooking, cleaning, spying or killing. 005 taps the top of the screen and grins when she looks up and _almost_ at him.

“Hello, Finn,” she says, pulling off her headphones.

“You ready to go home? I've got some kahawai to make for dinner,” he says, and she immediately perks up. “You like kahawai?” She nods vigorously.

“It's yum. Frank used to give us kahawai when we went on holiday when I was younger.” She shrinks back in on herself. 005's eyes widen and he flaps his hands in distress.

“Well this is a bit of a speciality of mine, it's lemon and orange and parsley baked on a fantastic risotto,” he burbles. “And for desert I have the most _divine_ dark chocolate mousse.” He's not entirely sure if 'chocolate' or 'mousse' is the magic work, but it does the trick and Alice beams again, shoulders slowly dropping to a somewhat more normal level.

Q hands him the package. Alice's eyes alight on it with some level of curiosity.

“And this came in from Nicky,” he says quickly, offering it up to her. “Another colleague of James and I. It's probably knitting of some sort. She's become a bit obsessed these last few years.” Alice peels the seal apart and sticks her fingers inside. 005 stops himself from cringing – but only just. Q wouldn't have given the package back if it wasn't totally safe for Alice.

She pulls out a scarf. Only it's _not_ the Ugly Scarf the rest of the double-ohs have been so blessed with from 002 (some kind of hideously lumpy, awfully scratchy monstrosity in varying spastic colours – 005 hid his in the back of his closet a long time ago. 006 burned his. He's fairly sure 007 actually blew his up) but rather a sleek and elegant lace design in iridescent blues and greens and purples and they all breathe a quiet 'oh'. She wraps it around her neck. It makes her eyes pop out. She smiles at the corner of the scarf in her hands. “I don't even know her. Can you tell her thank you? It's beautiful,” she says, rubbing the knitting against her cheek. “And it's _so soft_.”

Q and 005 stand, stunned, while she gets off the couch and goes out into the open plan Minion Den to retrieve her bear dog.

“I don't think double-oh-two likes me very much, then,” Q eventually says.

“I don't think double-oh-two likes _anyone_ very much,” 005 replies. “All us double-ohs received the most hideous coloured scratchy lumpy scarves you could ever want.”

“She sent me a lumpy sweatshirt. I gave it to my cats.”

“I hid the scarf in the back of my closet. Say, would your cats like a scarf?” 005 asks.

“They seem to love the jumper, so I don't see why not,” Q replies.

“I'll bring it in next time I remember.”

“Appreciated.”

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2016 needs to go away. STOP TAKING FANTASTIC PEOPLE AWAY!

005 gets a push update to his work phone the next morning.  It’s an app titled ‘EyeSpy’.  He opens it, curious. 

“I Spy With My Little Eye” graces the top of the bland white screen.  There is a button that says ‘My Turn’ down the bottom and below that ‘Hint’.  In the middle it says ‘something beginning with S’. 

005 smiles.  This app has Q’s fingerprints all over it. 

Later in the day, after school, 005 gets a notification from the app.  It reads ‘something beginning with T’.  A few minutes later it says ‘Denise poses ‘something beginning with Q’. 

He calls Q branch.  Denise picks up.  “If you want to get her current location, press ‘Hint’.  Until Q’s had a play with her phone, it will rely on whatever cellular or wireless networks she’s on, so give him about a week and we should have a much more accurate position on her, rather than a general location.”

“Thank you, Denise,” he replies.  “Are you rolling it out to everyone else?”

“You bet,” she says.  “Only on your Home Cells, we don’t want this information to get into the wrong hands.”  005 shudders. 

“No, we don’t.  Thank you again, and thank Q for me too, please,” he says.

“I will.”  The line clicks off.


	38. Chapter 38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been waiting for this for a very long time.

James receives a text.

 _FUK U_ it reads. It's from 003.

His phone goes off again.

 _U FUK WAT DA FUK_.

 _U FUKN FUK FUK U FUK_.

 _Why_ , Bond replies.

 _U FUKN WNKR I HD 2G2 MEDCL U FUK_.

 _Why_ , Bond replies.

_Y DA FUK U HAV FIR ON WNDOW SILS?!?!?!?!_

_Why were you using the window sills_.

 _I was tryn 2 say hi to bond niece_.

_Why didn't you just use the front door._

_Y DA FUK U HAV FIR ON WNDOW SILS_.

 _Front door_.

 _BORING_.

_Did you honestly expect I would leave my niece unprotected?_

_FUK U FUKN FIRE_.

 _Wasn't me, I did electric, 6 prob did fire_.

_UR BOTH DIKS FUK U I HD 2G2 MEDCL U FUK!!!_

_Use the front door like a regular person you prick_.

 _FUK U_.

 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Another Road (I'm Sure We're Lost) PODFIC](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9126781) by [Not_So_Secretly_a_Spaceship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_So_Secretly_a_Spaceship/pseuds/Not_So_Secretly_a_Spaceship)




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